Busted
by Onesimus42
Summary: Charles and Elsie run into friends. The last of the picture explaining fics.


_**Yet another fic to explain a picture from Batwings79. This is the last of these for awhile unless she does some more photoshopping. **_

_**Disclaimer: Of course they don't belong to me, but they're a lot of fun to play with.**_

Charles Carson was awakened by soft stirrings beside him and the feeling of cool air on his side as the sheets were lifted. He looked over to see that Elsie had risen and was putting on her nightdress and robe. Smiling contentedly at her, he asked, "Where are you going? We're to have sandwiches brought up tonight, you know."

"Charles," she said giving him a serious look, "as unromantic as it might be, I need to take a trip to the washroom. Since I have to go out in the hall to do that, I thought it might be best if I were fully clothed."

"Mmmm. Definitely," he agreed, "of course, now that you've said that, I need to make a trip myself."

"Well, come along then," she said pulling the sheets off him, "there are gentlemen's and ladies' facilities, after all."

He gasped and grabbed at the sheet laughing, "Not so fast, it's cold out there. Give a man some time, woman."

Quickly enough, he was up and in his pyjamas, pulling his robe on as they walked toward the door. Pausing before the door, he drew her robe tighter around her.

"I wouldn't want anyone out there getting a peek," he said before bending down to kiss her softly on the cheek.

Opening the door, he bowed to allow her out first. He stepped out quickly behind her and was surprised to almost knock her down where she had stopped in apparent shock just outside their door. Wrapping his arm around her waist to keep her from falling, he followed her gaze and realized the reason she had stopped with an inward groan. Standing and staring back at them with similar expressions of surprise were Mrs. Isobel Crawley and Dr. Richard Clarkson.

Glancing down, he saw that Elsie was staring at the floor in apparent absolute mortification, and he tried to come up with some reasonable explanation as quickly as possible, "Mrs. Crawley, Dr. Clarkson, what a surprise to see you here! Mrs. Hughes and I were just…, um, that is, we were…" He trailed off as he realized there was really no way to explain why they would be in an inn and coming out of the same room in their nightclothes, in the middle of the afternoon, no less. Honestly, it was obviously exactly what it looked like it was and there was no explaining it away.

There was what seemed like an eternity of silence but what was probably mere seconds before Elsie sensibly spoke, "Charles, for heaven's sake, it's obvious why we're here so there's certainly no need to pretend. And I assume that since Mrs. Crawley and Dr. Clarkson are here alone in an inn as well, that they are likely here for a similar reason."

Charles had been so mortified that that thought had not occurred to him. Looking curiously over at Mrs. Crawley, he saw that she was blushing furiously and looking at the floor herself now. If he wasn't mistaken, Dr. Clarkson's cheeks were tinted faintly pink as well. Dr. Clarkson started to speak, but was cut off by Mrs. Crawley, "We certainly don't need to be discussing something like this in the middle of a public corridor."

With that pronouncement, she grasped Elsie's hand and pulled her through a door two down and across from his and Elsie's room. Dr. Clarkson and he started to follow, but the door was shut firmly in their faces. When Dr. Clarkson tried the knob, it was locked. He growled in frustration and looked at Charles in exasperation, "Any suggestions, Mr. Carson?"

Still a bit overwhelmed, Charles merely lifted his eyebrows in puzzlement and shifted his shoulders. They stood like this for another moment before he suggested, "Well, since apparently any discussion is going to take place without us, perhaps you and I should get out of the hallway as well."

He motioned toward his door and opened it, motioning for Dr. Clarkson to enter before him. He shut the door behind him and then blushed when he realized how rumpled the bed was. It had rather obviously been used this afternoon. He stepped over and made a half-hearted attempt to straighten it. After a moment, he realized he was just drawing even more attention to the bed and turned back toward Dr. Clarkson, "Dr. Clarkson, would you like to sit down?" and indicated the lone armchair. Walking over to pull up the straight backed chair for himself, he noticed a rather unfortunate piece of clothing on the floor and stuffed it quickly inside the wardrobe. In retrospect perhaps he should have given the room a quick look before inviting Dr. Clarkson in.

"Really, Mr. Carson," Dr. Clarkson said with a half smile, "I would think that, given the circumstances, you should probably call me Richard."

Charles smiled back at him in relief, "Well then, Richard, I think you should probably call me Charles."

"So, um, is this your and Mrs. Hughes' first time here?"

Charles raised his eyebrows at the forwardness of the question but was still disconcerted enough by the extreme awkwardness of this situation that he chose to answer anyway, "No, actually, Elsie and I have been coming here for some time now, and I suppose now would be the appropriate time to inform you that she is actually Mrs. Carson. We usually manage to get away for at least a few days each year."

"Ohh; I never would have realized."

"Yes; well, no one else has either," Charles said with a small smile, "we were married at the end of our first stay here."

"I have heard it's a nice inn," Richard said in an attempt at normalizing the conversation.

"It's very nice," Charles agreed, "It's actually owned and managed by a former butler and cook who married and left service. The dining room is first rate, and she makes an especially good apple tart. They are very efficient and discreet," he added significantly.

"That's good," Richard nodded distractedly, "And is the town nice? I've heard the castle is a sight to behold."

Charles blushed furiously but admitted the truth anyway, "Elsie and I have never really found the time to sightsee. We're only here for a couple of days each year," he added by way of explanation.

"Oh! I see," Richard said, obviously fighting back a smile.

With a glare, Charles decided to turn the tables back on him, "And is this trip your first with Mrs. Crawley?"

"Err, yes, actually, it is. Mr. Car-, Charles," Richard said with upheld hands, "Let's call a truce, shall we? I'm sure that Isobel and Mrs. Hu-Carson will decide our fate no matter what we do, but all I want is a few pleasant days away from Downton, and I am sure you would like to continue your, um, holiday."

Charles nodded his agreement, "A truce it is, then. Um, how did you decide on this exact inn and town?"

"Probably for much the same reason you did. It's relatively convenient to Downton but far enough away to make the chance of seeing someone we knew unlikely…." He trailed off as he realized that that unlikely event was exactly what had happened.

"And, of course, the inn is not too large, but large enough to 'disappear'," Charles added with a smile, "I suppose our thoughts ran along the same lines. You do know that the innkeeper will bring up sandwiches in the evening so you don't have to go out, don't you? Tea and toast in the morning as well."

"He will! Well, that's a helpful bit of information," Richard agreed, "If we still stay here, that is."

Charles's answer was cut off by the door opening and Elsie's entry. He rose quickly, and she crossed to his side. He smiled down at her, "So the two of you have everything decided, do you? That didn't take as long as I thought. I was afraid you'd be in there the rest of the day."

She rolled her eyes at him in exasperation and poked him not too gently in the ribs with her elbow before addressing Richard, "Dr. Clarkson, Mrs. Crawley would appreciate your joining her, I believe."

Richard released a deep sigh of relief, "Thank you, Mrs. Carson. I hope you continue to enjoy the rest of your holiday." Then as if realizing exactly what he had just implied, he blushed furiously again and quickly walked out the door, shutting it firmly behind him.

Charles grasped Elsie's waist to draw her closer, "Did you have to lock us out in the hallway to have your discussion, dear wife?"

"Charles, do you really believe that Isobel would want to have such a frank discussion in front of Dr. Clarkson?" she asked as she slid her arms under his robe and around his waist.

He raised his eyebrows at her, "Isobel, is it? Well, I assumed that since she came here with the man…"

"She quite sensibly pointed out that given the situation that we were in, first names were probably in order," Elsie said smiling, "Dear husband, this is their first trip together. She feels much as I did on our first trip, I imagine."

"And how was that, dear wife?" he asked with a frown of concern, "I thought you wanted that trip as much as I did."

"Charles, I did, please believe me," she said as she smoothed the lapel of his robe, "but to anticipate it for so long and to actually have it so planned out…Then, when we were actually alone in here with that bed… I felt like rather a wanton woman, I'm afraid."

"I never knew that it bothered you so much. You certainly didn't seem to mind the goings on in _that _bed. If you felt that way, why did you come?"

"Of course I enjoyed the goings on in _that _bed and out of _that _bed," she smiled as she drew his arm tighter around her, "Because I wanted you very much for one thing. For another, and this is how I reassured Isobel, you, and I'm sure Dr. Clarkson as well, are enough of a gentleman that you would never have forced me to do anything that I didn't want to do."

"Well, of course not, I would have been disappointed, very disappointed, extremely disappointed," he emphasized, "But you would have only had to say, and I would have stayed in another room or even another inn, if you wished."

"I know Charles," she said as she pushed herself up on his slippered feet to kiss him softly, "and that makes all the difference. Now, shall we complete our original mission?"

"I would love to," he answered before returning her kiss hungrily and working at the fastenings of her robe.

"I meant our trip to the washroom," she said smiling as she batted at his chest.

"Certainly," he answered as he ushered her toward the door, "Who knows? We might run into Mrs. Bird and Mr. Molesley on this trip."

_**The inspiration picture for this fic will be on my profile and LJ. There is also a new M-rated supplemental story up in the 'M' section, for those who are interested. Reviews are welcome as always.**_


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